The Spirit of Sherwood
by Greenhenge
Summary: Pairing: RM WD Time: Post Episode 113. Late getting the taxes to the villagers, the outlaws split up to make the deliveries. Despite the separation the gang comes together to help one of their own with the aid of a forest comrade.
1. Chapter 1

Title: THE SPIRIT OF SHERWOOD

Author: GreenHenge

Rating: PG-13

Summary: The story takes place not too long after Episode 113. Late getting the taxes to the villagers, the outlaws split up to make the deliveries. Despite the separation the gang comes together to help one of their own with the aid of a forest comrade.

Pairings: Robin/Marian, Will/Djaq,

Spoilers: Series One 101-113

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do BBC's Robin Hood, but I have been to the Major Oak.

THE SPIRIT OF SHERWOOD

By GreenHenge

_**Chapter 1:**_

A slender doe and her fawn nibbled and pawed at the soggy ground searching for food. They found little reward for their efforts as a late winter storm had withered even the hardiest vegetation. The harsh cold had ravished the countryside, as well as the villagers' hopes for an early spring. Patches of snow still dotted the northern dales; once majestic elms stood naked and stark against the gray shades of morning. Their gnarled and knotted branches clawed at the clouds as if trying to find the sun.

Robin and John stood within a copse of trees at the northern edge of Sherwood, silently observing the deer. As the animals moved further away John looked over at Robin. "Everything is sufferin'. We must do something."

"We have most of last session's tax money, we need to get it to the people, and quickly. That storm really slowed us up." Robin's eyes met his friend.

"They will be expecting us." The tallest outlaw stated, leaning against his staff.

"Yes," Robin sighed, "we better tell the others. We should be ready to start out tomorrow if the weather holds."

The two men headed toward the camp, each lost in their own thoughts. He would discuss it with the others, but Robin knew they would have to split up to make the deliveries this time. He disliked the idea; visiting the villages just before spring was one of the activities they all enjoyed, and this time Marian could join them. After weeks of isolation, traveling through Sherwood would be a welcomed change. Most importantly, it was a time to renew old friendships, but it was also a chance to renew their ties to the greenwood as the forest came alive with the promise of new life.

Reluctantly the others acceded to Robin's suggestion that they make separate deliveries; Marian volunteered to go with him to Wadlow. The outlaw leader was planning to ask her, but was truly pleased that it was her idea, too. Much looked a bit disappointed, but he understood that his master and his lady needed the time alone. Little John stepped up and asked Much to come along to Wyersdale as he had an old friend there, a publican who was the proprietor of the Blue Boar Tavern.

Will, Alan and Djaq were off to Clun and Nettlestone, as the two villages were relatively close together to each other. The remainder of the day was spent counting coins, preparing bundles and packing gear for their respective journeys. After the evening meal, the group settled in for an early night.

John and Much left at dawn as they wanted to arrive in Wyersdale for afternoon ale and a meal. Djaq managed to rouse Alan; Will had been ready when she awoke. The trio headed to Clun about an hour after sunup. Will and Alan were in a heated discussion over whose bird call sounded more like a hawk. Lately it seemed any topic could be argued by these two lately.

Djaq stayed well ahead of the two young men; she was fed up with both of them at the moment. Their bickering had escalated over the last week. She thought it was just the weeks of close confinement and inactivity making them restless for a fight. Djaq knew Robin would be happy to have a break from refereeing.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

Robin and Marian huddled together at the fire ring in camp sharing a blanket and body heat to reverse the morning chill. The two volunteered to stay and camouflage the campsite since Wadlow was only a half-day's walk.

After wishing all their friends safe journeys Robin put his arm around Marian and kissed her temple. "Alone at last," he said stroking her cheek ever so gently.

Marian licked her lips and smiled at him, patting his knee under the blanket. "And we have things to do."

"Not just yet." Robin rolled his tongue over his bottom one as he moved closer for a slow, tender kiss. The pair separated on a shared sigh, though the loving gazes lingered.

Grinning at her he offered his hand and asked sweetly, "Shall we?"

Marian put her hand in his and pulled her into his arms. Her smile matched his as Marian tucked his unruly hair behind his ear several times. "I would say you have bed hair," she said now running her fingers through his bangs. "But, alas you did not sleep in a bed."

Happily indulging Marian's fascination with his hair, Robin held her around the waist and laughed, "I do not think it matters!"

"And why it that?" She asked, her eyes widening in anticipation.

"Because whatever it looked like before," Robin paused to laugh. "You have messed it up now, haven't you?"

"Really? If I only had my looking glass you could see for yourself."

He nipped her nose, "since lovely lady you are the one who has to look at my hair, however you fancy it is the way it will be."

"Oh my," she grinned, "just let me get the razor. I adore bald men!"

As Marian tried to pull away, Robin tighten his grip and his voice tightened as well. "What?" He managed to squeak out.

"'However you fancy it…' Is that not what you just said?" She asked innocently.

"Marian…" He took her by the shoulders, "…please tell me you are joking? I do not want to wake up one morning…" he gulped, "…sheared."

Laughing heartily Marian soothed his anxious brow. "I like your hair just as it is and especially where it is!" Marian ran to the other side of the fire rig and blew a kiss at him.

After a brief chase, the two settled into their task. In an hour the extra gear was stowed and the outlaw camp disappeared as if it never was. After helping each other adjust the bundles comfortably on their backs, Robin and Marian followed a narrow deer trail that wound through northern Sherwood along the River Trent.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

Her concentration was focused as Djaq lead Will and Alan through the thickening undergrowth.

"Djaq, I don't mean to be funny, but are you sure you know where we're going?" Alan asked with a smile.

"Leave her alone Alan," the carpenter's voice was low and menacing.

"I was only asking!?" Alan asked shrugging his arms and looking incredulous.

"Leave it!" Will barked.

"No I won't!" Alan yelled, "I been putting up with your bad mood for weeks and it's gonna stop!"

"And whose gonna stop it?" Will fired back. He intended to punch Alan in the arm, but just as his fist came forward, Alan turned toward him and Will's fist caught him in the eye.

"Ow!" Alan yelped bending over and holding his left eye. "Bloody 'ell, Will! What is your problem?"

Actually Alan felt responsible for part of the problem. Truth told, he had teased Will incessantly for weeks about blurting out his love for Djaq in front of everyone; he just couldn't seem to help himself. Will had taken it in stride for a while, but the young carpenter had enough. Alan only recently realized his friend had genuine feelings for the young Saracen.

"I don't wanna fight, aw right? I wanna talk." Alan said, still rubbing his reddening eye.

Will snorted, "You always talk! Not talking, that would be different!" Will lengthened his stride to catch up with Djaq, who was still in sight but not close enough to hear them.

Although Will was sorry about Alan's eye, but he was not ready to apologize. Finally aware the situation was spiraling out of control, Alan ran to catch up with his friend.

"Go away," Will responded, a scowl twisting his handsome features.

"C'mon Will, I think we need to talk about Djaq. I mean we 'aven't really talked since…."

"I don't think that's a good idea," the axe man interrupted.

"I know you think something is 'appenin' between me and 'er?" If Alan did have a word of knowledge, it would probably be on the subject of women at least he thought so.

Standing as straight as a young oak, Will pulled his shoulders back to reach his fullest height then crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his balled fists under his arms. Will eyed his friend thoughtfully his eyes were black with intensity as he looked over at Alan. Depending on how this conversation progressed, he would have a second or two to consider whether to keep listening or shut him up.

"Hey look, I'm jus' getting' used to 'aving friends I can count on." Alan shook his head, "I'm not ready to let a woman mess that up. 'ope I never do," he added, mostly for his own encouragement. Will looked at Alan and began to squint; Alan had a problem getting to the point, even when he wasn't on the scam.

His clear, blue eyes widening, Alan continued, "I mean, well… Djaq is still one of the lads to me, yeah?" Will was still squinting at Alan and now he wrinkled his nose, like someone was holding stable muck under it. 

Alan slipped his trademark mocking smile back in his pocket and turned to Will. "Look mate," he said as quietly as Will had ever heard him speak, "Robin was way off that day. Just loopy, you know?" Alan circled his index finger beside his ear for emphasis.

Both men knew they were referring to the day Robin found out about Gisborne's part in the assassination attempt on the king at Acre. It was the same day Will and Alan let it slip in front of everyone they were fond of the petite Saracen.

Will looked Alan in the eye, "I just didn't know…."

"There is nothing to know!" Alan was getting animated, raising his arms and slapping them to he sides. "Will, 'at's what I'm sayin'. I said I liked Djaq that day because Robin wasn't listenin' to us, was 'e?. Like he forgot who 'e was; forgot 'e was Robin Hood. 'e was another mad soldier like Harold. I dunno…."

"So you don't like Djaq?" Will asked for clarification.

"No…well…no - yes I like 'er…. She's funny and smart."

"I know that!" Will snorted and shook his head.

Alan would swear his friend had gotten dumber in the last thirty seconds. Grabbing Will's shoulders, the man who could make a horseshoe, shook his friend and tried another explanation. "ere's lots of girls I 'ave still to meet," Alan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Djaq is the only real friend I 'ave that is also a woman. She was kind to me when Tom ... well she reminded me of my older sister; she used to be like that."

His dark laugh interruped him. "And I will be permanently on probation with Lady Marian, I think. Even if I was the first one to notice she was alive, mind." Alan smiled at Will, and this time it reached his eyes.

Both men laughed - a little. Alan moved to stand beside Will, putting his left hand on Will's shoulder, "do your worst, mate," he said. The twinkle in his eyes was dazzling and a wag of a wayward eyebrow was turning his smile into a leer. Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I didn't tell 'er," Alan whispered as if reading his mind. "I doubt any of 'em did. Just relax; act natural." Alan took off giving Will time to gather his thoughts, and his courage.

Will Scarlett was relieved – almost. The trouble was he didn't know what 'natural' was in this situation; it was the first time a woman had turned his head. He laughed to himself, and Djaq certainly did not behave like the women at Locksley Village.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4:**_

A few miles from camp lay Fountains Abbey; it was one of Marian's favorite areas since she spent a summer here long ago. She had fond memories of walking these woodlands learning about plants and herbs from the resident monks.

"This will all be beautiful in a week, if the sun ever comes out again," Marian said looking up at the overcast sky. She pulled at the strap cutting into her shoulder, "shall we rest, Robin? I need to adjust this pack."

"Sounds good." Robin agreed; he just couldn't stop smiling at her. The gentleman outlaw shrugged off his bundle and lowered it to the ground then loosened the bindings on Marian's pack and put it beside his own.

Marian rolled her head from side to side trying to relieve the stiffness in her neck and back. "Wonder how the others are finding things?"

"John and Much will be fine, one talks too much and the other not enough. And as long as Much does not sing all should be well!" He stood behind Marian, tenderly massaging her shoulders then applying gentle thumb pressure up her slender neck. Robin's smile widened as Marian expressed her appreciation with a satisfied moan.

"Mmm… feels good…. I hope Alan and Will work things out. Poor Djaq is traveling the countryside with the fabulous bicker brothers! "

"Oh she can handle those two!" Robin laughed, "Much thinks their squabbling is about Djaq. I don't think she'd have either one of them!"

"That's not very charitable," Marian chided him.

"Well," Robin shrugged widening his eyes, "frankly, Djaq has never shown that kind of interest in any of us, not even m…"

Marian spun around and pushed Robin making him take a step back. The look on Marian's face frightened and delighted him all at once. He loved how her blue eyes darkened in anger, but some time the result of his enjoyment was painful. Robin raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

Changing tactics, Marian demurred stepping closer so their lips were a whisper apart, "I do fear for you Robin…." She reached for his right hand and traced the lines of his palm with her left. It was having the desired effect. "I fear that…."

"Hmmm?" Forgetting his apprehension, Robin closed his eyes.

"I fear that when you return to Locksley, your headwill no longer fit through the door!" Her motion practiced and fluid, Marian whipped his arm behind his back and held it tightly.

"OW! What're you doing?" Robin struggled as his eyes popped open, but Marian held firm. Raising his voice he asked again, "What?"

Marian stood on her tip-toes to reach his ear, "I do not know what is worse: just thinking every woman is defenseless to your charms, or assuming it as universal truth."

Robin leaned back to reach her ear, "Has it not been proven?" Marian could feel his grin against her neck and twisted his arm a little harder.

"OW! Okay…Marian…." He pleaded; she did not relent. Suddenly his voice was dripping honey, "Please …Marian." Of course Robin could have broken her hold, but Marian might get hurt in the process and that he would not risk.

Releasing his arm she turned him around by the shoulders so they were facing each other, "Sometimes you are too much, Robin."

"I am." He nodded enthusiastically.

Tilting her head, Marian's quizzical look was emphasized by her cocked brow.

"I meant… _**am I**_… forgiven?" Robin tried not to sound cheeky, but it was not even a good try.

Shaking her head Marian looked away from him. She had to admit she was thrilled to be playing flirty games with Robin again. It brought back happier times and it just felt right. Robin lifted her chin and kissed her softly. She locked her hands behind his neck; he locked his at her waist. Marian leaned back against his arms to fully appreciate his gorgeous smile.

"Would you like to know a secret?" She asked with a twinkle in her eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

Considering its lack of use after the late winter storm, the trail to Wyersdale was in fairly good condition Little John thought. The deep wheel ruts that scarred the road bed were filled with muddy rain water. The brawny woodsman had grown fond of the 'Lord of Bonchurch' during the months they lived in Sherwood Forest; he was loyal and brave, but John was sure he could talk an enemy to death if given the chance! Much had been chattering away on all manner of topics, and if John didn't tune him out for a while he might just gag him.

Alice Little was from Wyersdale and John met Gilbert o' the Green at the Blue Boar Inn while he was courting her twelve years ago. Gill or Gilly, as John called him, was as full of piss and vinegar as John; they were near the same age, and were equally adept at finding trouble in their youth.

The Blue Boar was the best local tavern in the area and Gilbert's family had owned and operated it for two generations. Gilly was responsible for running the inn; and John thought he was a natural barman. Although a good businessman, his greatest asset was his jovial personality. He was meant to be a barman, Gill's father always said. The big man wondered if Eamon o' the Green, Gilbert's father, was still listed as the proprietor on the placard.

Since the tavern was popular with the king's foresters as well as the locals, John hoped he and Much would have a chance to visit before the king's men arrived. The outlaw's mouth was watering just thinking about the Blue Boar's beef stew, but it wasn't always available so he did not mention it to Much.

"Are you hungry, John?" Much's question jarred John back to the present.

"No." John answered as he cut his eyes at his friend.

"Well singing is the only thing that takes my mind off my growling stomach."

"You cannot sing!"

"So I have been told." Much pouted. He did not understand why God had given him this great desire to sing, and yet no one to appreciate his voice. It just didn't seem right to the thwarted crooner.

"No singing." John stopped and turned toward Much; if his glare wasn't enough, the forceful tap of his staff on the ground was sufficient warning for Robin's former manservant.

"Right. Well then, if I promise not to sing, will you agree to stop for a rest…a short rest...very short?" Much was fairly sure John was barely holding on to the end of his tether.

Nodding his consent the pair stopped at the next bend in the road where a thicket of trees could shield them from other travelers.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6**_

Even traveling at a languid pace, Robin and Marian were only about two hours from Wadlow. Marian had changed her mind about taking the side path to the abbey. The damp weather left the route muddy and slippery; Marian decided a spring day would yield better results in her search for medicinal flora. She would just have to plan a time she and Robin could return and spend the day.

"Do you really have something to tell me, or are you just teasing?" Robin asked, swinging their joined hands between them.

"Yes," she answered with certainty.

"Yes you have a secret, or yes you are teasing me?"

"Yes," she repeated, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Robin grimaced as he raised his hands to his head and clenched his fists, exhaling a growl.

"Do you prefer to guess or…"

"Does the secret have something to do with me?" He asked hopefully, interrupting her.

Putting her hands on her hips Marian poked her tongue in her cheek. "No Sir Boasts A Lot," she shook her head, "it has absolutely nothing to do with you. Did we not just have this conversation?"

Playfully, Robin stuck out his bottom lip and moped like a child who just lost his sweet.

"Silly fool!" Marian said, and not in an endearing way.

The pout was instantly discarded for a brilliant smile, "I am only Marian's fool," Robin mumbled against her lips before kissing her soundly, making sure he had the last word.

Marian kissed him back as the moment stretched on. The pair parted only for a mutual need to breathe.

"Were we talking about something?" Marian asked, feeling giddy after that amazing kiss.

Robin looked down at her, lost in the azure sea of her luminous eyes. "Marian…" he breathed, "You are so beautiful." His voice barely a whisper, "So beautiful…your eyes are always in my memory."

Her face beaming, Marian stroked his cheek, "Your blue eyes are also quite memorable."

Robin grinned then nibbled her neck until he reached her ear and whispered softly, "Is that the secret?"

"Ha!" She shouted, pushing him away from her with both hands. "You are unbelievable!"

"What?" He grinned, "I was just asking…" Robin added, sounding completely innocent.

Marian huffed, then turned on her heel and strode off, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. For as much as Robin loved her angry eyes, Marian equally loved Robin's innocent pretense.

It was a game that began when they were children, when it wasn't always pretend. Robin would tease until Marian got mad. Marian relied on Robin's boastful nature; she would call him on it and his innocent 'denials' began. The couple's techniques were more sophisticated now, but the basic game was the same.

"So, where were we?" Robin asked jogging up to walk beside her.

Looking over at him she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. Robin took her hand and kissed her cheek, pulling her toward the large oak tree where Robin put their bundles. "Sit with me?"

Smiling and nodding at him, Robin removed their cloaks and spread his down on the ground then offered Marian his hand. Still smiling, he helped her down and covered her lap with her cape. Robin slipped in behind her leaning against the tree trunk; Marian settled back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Putting her arms over his she sighed, "This is nice." She stretched up to nip at his jaw and kissed her way down his neck.

"Hmm…mmm…" He hummed resting his chin on her shoulder. "So, please tell me the secret; I do not think we should have any secrets between us."

Marian's heart swelled whenever he said 'we,' referring to them as a couple. After being independent and self reliant for so long, Marian was just getting accustomed to being part of a couple, and fitting into Robin's world. She observed the group's interaction and was learning to be part of the team.

Getting to know everyone was a slow process. Marian already loved Much like the younger brother she never had. Although she had known Will Scarlett as a village boy from her visits to Locksley, he was now a talented carpenter and artisan.

The jury was out on Alan; he was brave and funny and he could dream up the wildest excuses for just about anything. It was amusing, but not reassuring; she would keep an eye on him a while longer.

Little John she liked. The staff wielding woodsman was the gentle giant among them; not to imply he could not be fierce, she had seen that side of him too. Marian just wished he would talk in bursts of more than three words.

The stab wound she suffered at Gisborne's hand expedited the bonding of the two women. Djaq apologized for thinking Marian was not brave enough to endure the required treatment; the pretty Saracen and her medical skills saved the life of the former Nightwatchman. Hence the two women of the greenwood were getting on quite well and that pleased Robin. He knew how to handle quarrels among the lads, but he did not want to get between Marian and Djaq; he valued his life after all.

The couple cuddled under the tree for a while, occasionally sipping from a shared wine flask. Robin and Marian enjoyed the time alone and away from well-meaning but nosy friends. While she was quiet, Robin combed his fingers through her hair before pulling it away from her neck. Robin's soft kiss snapped Marian from her thoughts.

"I am still waiting…." His lilting voice was almost irritating.

The pair shifted positions so they could look at each other. Marian threw her legs over his left, leaning back against his right knee. She held Robin's hand in her lap and looked up at him, "I thought you should know Djaq has asked me for help."

"That's great! She probably wants you to teach her your Nightwatchman moves." He grinned; Marian just looked at him.

"No, she wants help – she asked me to help her …be more feminine." Marian watched Robin's face for the reaction.

"Huh?" Robin's head fell back against the tree trunk. Exhaling audibly he said, "That I did not expect…" He looked down at Marian hoping she understood because Robin had no clue. "Why?"

"Because she is a woman?" It was a rhetorical question, but Marian was making a point. "I have two thoughts. In one of our conversations, Djaq did not give me the impression she wants to return to the east, nor does she want to be thought of as a male the rest of her life in England."

"I suppose that makes sense," Robin said slowly, stroking his chin. "She has never said anything though."

"Who is the poor girl supposed to talk to among you lot?" Marian shrilled in exasperation; men can be so dense! Robin shrugged defensively.

"And, then I remembered Alan and Will expressing their affection for her…."

Interrupting her Robin asked, "Please tell me you are not playing matchmaker."

"No, I am not! I am telling you what I think, my opinion. You are the leader…"

she paused to clear her throat, "…and I thought you should know." Marian pushed on Robin's shoulders and stood.

Robin looked up at her and reached for her hand. As she pulled him to his feet he asked, "What do you think we should do?"

"We," she emphasized, "shall do nothing." She stated as she slipped on her pack and handed the other to Robin. "Sometime you must tell me how exactly you intend to help Djaq be more feminine?"

Dumbfounded, Robin ignored her sarcasm and continued to look at Marian like deer caught by torchlight. "Nothing?"

The lady clasped her cloak and looked at Robin, "Something or rather someone has Djaq 'stirred!'" That word still made Marian laugh, "and she wants to be what she is - a woman."

Poor Robin had gotten so used to seeing Djaq as one of the lads, this circumstance he never considered. Actually, he thought, this was not a situation he faced in the king's guard! "You will help me, please. This is... "Robin could not find a word to even describe it, so he just shook his head.

Thankfully, Marian interrupted, "Do not worry so Robin. Everything will work out. I'll be curious to see what happens on this trip." Marian said clasping her cloak.

"Oh they will be fine. They know how badly the people need the money." Robin helped Marian pull up the hood of her cloak.

"Thank you," she smiled at him. "It is after the deliveries that worry me."

Robin laughed, "There is that."

Marian looked up at him with those amazingly blue eyes, "are you not glad you will never have to fight for me again?"

"Never? Never… is a very long time, Marian." Robin shook his head thoughtfully and bit his lower lip as though her question required serious contemplation.

As Marian opened her mouth to reply the wind gusted around them. Marian shivered and Robin embraced her tightly, pressing his body against hers.

"Better," he asked, gently rubbing her back?

"Perfect," she whispered, lifting her lips to his for another kiss.

"As much as I would like to stay like this forever," he confessed kissing her brow, "we should get going; the sun is passed midday."

Marian nodded and the pair began the last part of their journey to Wadlow.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7**_

The sun had passed the high point in its daily journey to the western horizon when Little John and Much came upon the Blue Boar. Spotting the sign first, the big man smiled and slapped Much on the back. The unsuspecting Much stumbled forward, taking five awkward steps before regaining his balance. Reacting to John's good natured belly laugh at his expense, Much headed for John with his right hand clasped in a fist.

Surprise registered on John's face as his friend charged, but he put his hand on Much's head while the smaller man swung wildly at his chest. "Oi! Sorry Much," he said, "we are here!"

"You big oaf! Why did you do…" Much had already started his tirade before John's words registered. "What? We're here!?" Turning around Much shouted, 'We're here! I am starving!"

John Little chuckled as he watched Much scamper to the inn's door. Some things will never change, he thought.

Silently the pair entered the inn and sat away from the table of boisterous foresters who appeared to be taking an extended lunch or they were legless when they came in. Probably the former John thought as he laid his quarterstaff on the floor and quietly took a seat.

Chattering about the possibilities, Much had his nose in the air trying to decide what delicious smell was coming from the kitchen. John jerked on his tunic, "Sit down," he ordered, nodding in the direction of the king's men.

Muttering "I cannot talk outside; I cannot talk inside. I cannot sing!" He crossed his arms on the tabletop and laid his head upon them. "I'm so hungry and of course there would be foresters here. "I should have known," he added fatalistically.

As Much moped in silence a great barn cat rubbed against his knee. The startled Much yelped and pushed back from the table with such force the bench on which he and John were seated tipped backward.

Thanks to Little John's quick reflexes he was able to push Much forward, unintentionally slamming his head into the table. The good news was the disturbance was minimal and the drunken foresters had a few too many ales to notice. The bad news was - Much was unconscious.

Gilbert, the proprietor of the Blue Boar, stood behind the bar and witnessed a hulk of a man push his smaller companion into the table. Coming around the bar, Gill was about to throw his bar rag when he thought he recognized the massive man. Knowing John's status as an outlaw Gill returned to the bar and approached the man with two tankards of ale.

"Welcome traveler," the barman said placing the tankards of the table.

Recognizing the voice, John looked up into the face of his old friend.

"Saints be praised! 'Tis good to see you, John." Gilbert's grin was as wide as John's and his handshake just as firm. "It has been too long."

"Aye…you look good. And business?" John asked.

"All is as good as these wretched times will allow, my friend." Gill answered; his tone as grim as the times.

"Aye," John agreed before finishing off half a tankard and wiping his bearded mouth with the back of his hand.

"A few unsavory sorts come in," said Gilbert gesturing vaguely at the noisy group of foresters stumbling out the door.

"Good riddance!" John said toasting the group as the door closed behind them.

"Not to worry, mate, the rest of the in lot here are all right. Your friend here doesn't look too good though," the barman said as Much started to groan.

"This is Much. He is fine," John offered, "his head is as hard as mine."

The two friends laughed heartily and Gill took a long draw from the ale meant for Much.

"He will forgive me if he is fed," John laughed. "What is on the fare this day?"

"Ah…the missus happened to make your favorite today – beef stew! Two specials on the house!" John nodded his approval, grinning and patting belly.

"Be right back," Gill said heading for the kitchen.

Much raised his head, and rubbed the spot that hit the table. Before he reached full consciousness John told him food and drink was on the way and that seemed to satisfy him for the moment.

- - -

After eating until they was miserable, Gill and John entertained Much for almost three hours reminiscing about their wild escapades before either man was married. Occasionally Much would relate a story about his journey to the Holy Land with Robin, but he told none of the war stories.

Gill offered them pallets in the back store room for the night and the two outlaws settled down to rest. But neither man slept well, missing the greenwood and the nocturnal sounds of the forest that lulled them to dreamland at home.

John awoke the next morning to Much calling his name repeatedly and shoving him in the shoulder.

"We have to go. Get up John! John!! C'mon you big …"

"Oi! Get off!"

"We must go to the village and get back to Sherwood," Much was becoming more and more insistent.

Surprisingly, John didn't argue with Much. He wasn't sure why, but he also felt oddly compelled to get back to camp.

Little John and Much bid goodbye to Gilbert and in less than thirty minutes entered the village center of Wyersdale.

"Welcome my friends, 'tis good to see you!" Henry the village thane greeted them warmly and loud enough to alert most of the villagers to their presence.

"Aye and you, Henry," John said slapping the balding, middle-aged man squarely on the back.

"Welcome friends. You choose a good day to visit," Henry told them, "Martha is roasting two chickens. Come, have some food and drink."

"Chicken we like," said John thumping the ground with his staff.

"Thank you Henry, but we cannot this day." Much continued as if John had not spoken. We must return to Sherwood." Much looked at John impatiently.

The expression of surprise on the giant's face was stunning. He had never seen Much refuse food since he had known him. "Are you ill?"

Much cut his eyes at John, but ignored his question. Turning to Henry he said, "We are all fine. We came to deliver your share of the tax money, Henry."

John held out a leather pouch filled with coins. "Sorry it is late," John hesitated, "…bad weather."

"No matter. We knew you would come; and you are here." Henry accepted the money with gratitude.

"It is a donation from the sheriff!" Much enthused, not hiding his joy at besting the nemesis of Nottingham.

"We are thankful, all of us. It is sorely needed. Now, are you sure I cannot tempt you with some honey mead? It is a good batch." Henry added enticingly.

John answered first, "That sounds…"

"Wonderful," Much interrupted, "…but we must go. We will be back in the spring."

"If you must, you must I suppose, but I cannot guarantee the next batch will be as good…"

Exchanging goodbyes, the three men smiled and hugged each other. Little John and Much headed home to the sheltering arms of Sherwood, both men thinking about the sense of apprehension neither could describe.


	8. Chapter 8

3

_**Chapter 8**_

The couple walked along in companionable silence, exchanging glances and smiling at each other. The weather seemed to be easing; it was still overcast, but the sun peeked out for a few minutes now and then.

Taking a moment to appreciate his handsome profile, Marian smiled, "I think it will be cold again tonight." She cast her eyes skyward, "the sun is still not making m much of an appearance."

Robin grinned and pulled her closer. "That is not entirely bad news," he said kissing her temple, "is it?"

"When I am with you, nothing is entirely bad." Her lingering gaze and infectious smile lit up Robin's face; he winked at Marian as they continued on their route.

Their path narrowed as it skirted a steep embankment rising nearly ten feet above the riverbed. Aged oaks, elms and hawthorns surrounded the small plateau to the east and stretched proudly toward the sky, their massive roots gripped the ground as a hawk's talons held its prey.

There was a small clearing ahead where Marian and an old friend used to escape years ago. "Follow me," she asked invitingly, tugging on Robin's hand.

"Anywhere," he grinned, walking dutifully behind her.

"Do you think there is time to stop here…just for a little while?" Marian was already slipping the pack off her shoulders.

"Here…let me help." Robin took her pack and put it with his near the edge of the embankment. He walked toward her saying, "I think it is only another hour to Wadlow."

The couple faced each other and Marian played with the leather strings of his jerkin. "A penny for your thoughts?" She asked playfully.

"You do not have a penny lovely lady; you gave them all to the poor." Robin smiled at her; he loved these little games.

Marian looked at him, "Hmmm…a kiss then, good sir?" She batted her eyelashes for maximum effect.

Robin's eyes lit up, "Oh yes my lady. That is worth more than a penny." He closed his eyes, licked his lips and puckered up in anticipation.

Marian cupped his cheek, "Are you ready?" She whispered her soft breath felt warm against his face.

"Yes! Yes!" He nodded enthusiastically, quickly resuming his pucker.

"All right," Marian whispered then kissed him firmly on the forehead!

Robin opened his eyes and lifted his dropped jaw. "You madam are a trickster. You do not play fair."

"I offered a kiss and a kiss you received. How is that not fair? Placement of said kiss was not specified." Her lilting voice was meant to be higher than normal.

"A detail," Robin pouted, lowering his head.

Lifting his chin Marian forced him to look at her, "But fair, yes?"

Robin cut his eyes away from her and begrudgingly agreed.

"So, tell me," Marian said with a smile.

"Tell you what?"

"Your thoughts, I believe we agreed you were compensated?" She smiled smugly.

"I've forgotten what I was thinking, it was so long ago. And now my humors are out of sorts." Robin stretched out on the ground and laced his fingers behind his head, smiling arrogantly.

"Your humors, is it?" Marian queried as she moved to sit beside him. At the last instant she sat down on top of him and started a tickle fight like they used to have years ago. She was relentless and Robin was hopelessly sensitive to tickling.

Laughing wildly and calling her name between gasps for air, he bit down on his forearm, trying to keep from laughing. Tickling had always been her greatest advantage when she needed to discipline him, usually for showing off.

"Stop! I give! I give!" Robin shouted.

Waiting for him to catch his breath, Marian got up and released her victim. Robin, his face still flushed, stood and brushed the forest litter from his clothes. Watching him clean up and regain his composure, she prodded him, "so tell me…."

"I was thinking about you and how quickly you have adjusted to life in the greenwood…."

Marian smiled at that, "Really?"

"….But…." He held up his hand to quiet her, "… now I'm thinking you are a menace!" He grinned at her and added, "A beautiful menace."

Smiling radiantly, Marian kissed him then playfully pushed him away and ran ahead, glancing back enticing him to follow. Robin just stood there, enjoying the sight of her, laughing and carefree.

"Rooobbbinnnn!" she called coyly, smiling as she whirled around. Soft wisps of dark brown hair encircled her face. His heart filled with love for her all over again and he ran toward her, eager to hold her close.

The high-pitched squeal that pierced the air shattered their reverie. Marian felt her breath catch as Robin's beaming expression transformed into a look of terror. A grisly wild boar crashed through the underbrush charging wildly toward Marian. It was a huge beast covered with dark bristles and probably weighed more than Robin and Marian combined.

As she turned to face the enraged creature, Robin drove forward, grabbing her by the waist. Quickly he pushed her out of the path of the advancing boar and, in the process, lost his footing on the icy slush. Marian, precariously close to the edge of the embankment, clawed at Robin's tunic sleeve, trying to regain her balance. But the soggy ground gave way, and she skidded toward the river, suddenly snagging her foot on a small outcropping of rock protruding from the cliff wall. The abrupt stop jarred her to the bone, but Marian didn't really notice it then. Frightened for Robin's safety she grabbed at tree roots, vines, and rocks trying to pull up to the top of the embankment.

As the outlaw scrambled to his feet, the angry boar brutally rammed him and slammed him to the cold, wet ground. Painfully Robin struggled for air as the animal's charge knocked the breath from him. The frenzied animal shook his head from side to side, his lethal tusks tearing a long diagonal gash along the outlaw's upper chest. The boar backed away and charged again; this time the force of the attack sent Robin toppling over the jagged edge, tumbling to the river below.

In an instant all was silent save for the guttural snorting of the boar as it peered over the precipice. Marian didn't notice the crazed animal's departure. Her eyes were transfixed on Robin unconscious and bloodied, laying face up in the rippling waves along the river's rocky shore.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9**_

The threesome of Djaq, Will and Alan completed their deliveries to Nettlestone and Clun without difficulty and were headed back toward camp. Alan took off ahead of his friends; his eye was smarting and he was irritable. Mostly though, he didn't have a story to explain the injury; the truth wasn't good enough. The outlawed blacksmith knew the gang would tease him incessantly and he just wasn't in the mood for it.

Deep in their own thoughts about completely different subjects, Djaq and Will walked along in companionable silence. Djaq seemed distracted, but she couldn't explain why, and Will was thinking through his talk with Alan and what he was going to say to Djaq when the opportunity came along.

Will truly liked Alan, but he didn't trust him completely, not after following him north during the biggest crisis the gang had faced; he could not forgive his actions because he had no good reason for leaving. Locksley was the Scarlett's home; Dan built most of it; his mother Jane was buried by the church; and Luke and Will were born and raised in the village. Despite it all, he had allowed Alan to convince him to leave. The more Alan talked that day, the more Will discounted his instincts to return to Sherwood. He did not even go back for Djaq, the woman he thought he loved. It was unforgivable; what was he thinking that day?

The thoughtful man knew he and Alan should have returned to camp as planned. Everything else could be decided later. If their lives as forest renegades were over, they should have returned to say their goodbyes and still reach Scarborough in time for spring planting. His friends forgave him; Will was unable to forgive himself.

The relationship between the two men began to change after that; Will realized it was mostly his doing, but he couldn't seem to stop it. It angered him that Alan would not own up to what they did and Will took that anger out on his friend. The young woodsman did not know how to deal with all these powerful feelings. Was Alan being truth about his intentions concerning Djaq; and what was he going to do about his feelings for her? Will could not move on before answering these questions.

The long winter had brought him close to leaving anyway. He hated Robin's unwillingness to rescue Djaq and he didn't understand it. That day he was desperate for Robin to rescue their newest recruit, tell them how to rescue her, something. It took all his self-control just to stand still when he would swear a hundred snakes were slithering up his back. And then the "…love her" part came out of his mouth. Complete silence; his words just hung out there in the air.

As far as Will was concerned, his words were still out there, waiting to strike. If one of his friends blurted it out, he was afraid of Djaq's reaction. If that happened, Will felt he would have to leave Sherwood and go to Scarborough with his father and Luke. Djaq could not leave; their group was the closest thing to family she had and he would not be responsible for ruining it for her.

It was all so confusing; Will wanted a resolution, one way or the other. This feeling was almost as bad as dangling from the sheriff's rope, except now it was constant and Robin's arrow could not save him from it.

Will wanted to start the spring anew, clear the air with Alan completely. They were disrupting the peace of the group; their constant bickering had escalated in the last month. Will wanted to put his energies into more amorous pursuits. Talking to Alan on this trip helped – if Alan was telling the truth about his feelings for Djaq.

Will walked along beside Djaq with a new resolve, now he just needed an opportunity to talk to her. If what Alan said was true, perhaps he still had a chance to win the heart of the pretty Saracen.

Djaq was deep in her own thoughts. Her senses were singing and she had no logical reason for it. The trip was without incident, but she could not rectify this feeling of dread that nipped at her consciousness.

Something was amiss and Djaq could not silence the ominous noises in her head. She dared not share her apprehension with Alan and Will as she feared they would not understand; how could she explain something she did not comprehend?


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10**_

Frantically calling his name, Marian struggled to her feet. The covering of twigs, leaves and other natural debris swirled behind her as she skittered down the slope. Nearing the bottom, she jumped down, losing her balance and tumbling into the dense undergrowth at the base of the rock face. Marian fought hard to keep her wits about her as sheer panic threatened to engulf her.

"Robin! Robin!" She called desperately, but there was no response.

Marian blanched at the sight of blood on his forehead and ran toward him. Gently lifting him under the shoulders she struggled to pull him out of the ebbing river. The dark stain on his tunic drew her attention and she crouched beside him, unlacing his tunic. Carefully she pulled the saturated cloth away from the wound. Robin groaned when she laid a palm against the jagged tear; the warm blood oozing through her fingers.

"It is bad, Robin," she told him, although the young man had not regained consciousness. "I must get you dry and out of this chill."

Desperately her eyes darted across the landscape, quickly assessing her surroundings. The steep rise continued for some distance; an attempt to pull Robin up the sloping terrain was beyond Marian's strength. Not sure of his injuries, she feared moving him too far; he would have to be examined before that decision.

Glancing back to Robin, Marian's anxiety heightened. He was shivering, breathing in short shallow gasps. She shuddered pulling the cloak from her shoulders as the cold air penetrated her rough-woven dress. Ignoring her own discomfort, she tucked the woolen cloak around him, trying frantically to keep him warm. At that instant Marian was overwhelmed by the sensation she was not alone.

Turning sharply she caught a flicker of movement, but could discern only a shadowy image that emerged from solid rock, disappearing into the lingering morning fog. Marian stared after the vision momentarily paralyzed as she tried to reconcile her logical mind with her senses.

Drawn to the spot, she found no tracks – no indication anything of substance had passed there only seconds before. Continuing to scrutinize the cliff wall, she noticed a wide, black seam running vertically then narrowing near the top. Clearing away enough of the bracken and brambles to expose the section of rock, Marian found an entrance to a small cavern. The opening was small but wide enough for one person at a time. Relieved she could explain the presence of the wolf, she still could not understand why she found no paw prints, but this was not the time to consider it.

Once inside the cave Marian found there was sufficient room to easily accommodate the two of them and maybe a couple more people. In the dim light she the telltale signs of previous inhabitants was visible; a circle of stones lay on floor, and the charred wood and ash within indicated a fire once burned there. Scattered about were several shards of crude earthen pottery; against one stone wall were a few dry logs and kindling. The previous cave dwellers must have moved on before they used all the wood they gathered, or considerately left it for the next traveler, either way it was a blessing to Marian.

A painful groan brought her once again to the water's edge. Marian dampened part of her hem and wiped the blood from Robin's forehead. Stirring, the outlaw rolled to his right and tried to push up to a sitting position. The stab of white hot pain in his left shoulder ended that plan. Weak from loss of blood he sank back as Marian moved quickly behind him offering support.

"Let me help you, Robin," she pleaded. "Can you stand?"

His head reeled in a nauseous wave of disorientation. "I…I do…not…."

"Try, please," Marian urged, finding it impossible to keep her voice calm. "There's a small cave just there," she said nodding toward the spot.

With his last bit of strength, Robin allowed Marian to help him to his feet; she had difficulty draping her cloak over his shoulders. Robin's injuries forced her to bear the brunt of his weight and she struggled to navigate the rocky terrain. Near the entrance her patient collapsed, dragging Marian down, too. Untangling herself from Robin's unconscious body, she moved quickly to her feet and eased him onto his back. Most of the cloak was still under him and she used it to pull him into the cave.

Robin groaned fitfully and mumbled her name.

"I am here, Robin," Marian said reaching for his hand. "I am here."

Robin drifted back into semi-consciousness and Marian seized the opportunity to maneuver the damp cloak from beneath him and hung it from a tree root jutting out from the wall of the cave. Grabbing the brittle kindling she started a fire, thankful the small cavern would warm quickly.

Carefully unlacing his tunic, Marian peeled back the torn material, exposing the wound. She ripped a strip of cloth from her tattered clothing to form a compress and pushed it firmly against the open gash. Robin moaned pitifully, but Marian was steadfast and kept applying pressure.

Confident the bleeding had stopped she bandaged the shoulder as tightly as she could. Although relieved the immediate crisis was over, Marian's hand remained on the bandage, pressing firmly.

The moment of relief was short-lived as Robin's body trembled beneath her touch. Checking for signs of fever, Marian placed her cheek against his forehead; the fever was not yet on him.

Stroking his brow and she whispered softly, "You will be all right...you have to be." But, the words did not convince her. "I need to get you warm, Robin…."

He shivered uncontrollably; his skin felt clammy and his clothes were soaked through. Marian unlaced his leggings, slipped them off and began rubbing his legs to warm them. Noticing the scar on his left thigh, she wondered if this was another war wound he had yet to tell her about. Marian said a silent prayer.

Needing ingredients for a sleeping draught, the former sheriff's daughter knew she would have to leave him alone to find the roots she required. It was past midday, but the overcast sky looked more like dusk. In a couple hours finding the plant would be impossible; she must leave now if she hoped to get back before nightfall.

"I will be back soon…very soon." She said gently kissing his forehead and wrapping her warmed cloak around him. Still worried, Marian weighed her options and decided to go; she had to try.

The day was still dreary and gray as she stepped outside; she hugged herself and rubbed her upper arms. After taking a deep breath, she dragged some of the underbrush to camouflage the cave opening then looked around for the easiest way up the slope.

The giant elms to her left had massive roots, above and below the ground which should give her better footing. Sighing resignedly Marian started uphill, trying to ignore the soreness in every part of her body. Reaching the top she spotted the bundles they dropped earlier; in the chaos Marian forgot them. Knowing she could not take them now, she pushed them over the cliff dropping them close to the cliff face behind the wild growth of vegetation.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Walking along she tried to keep her mind focused on anything but her current circumstances. She focused on the plant she needed remembering the man responsible for teaching her about medicinal flora.

It was mid summer; she was fourteen and madly in love with Robin of Locksley. The young lovers were making wedding plans, but apparently the Earl of Huntingdon and Sheriff Fitzwalter were concerned the pair was moving too fast, so they decided to separate them for a while. Robin stayed at Locksley and Marian was sent to Fountains Abbey, named after the many springs in the area.

Since both wives died prematurely Lord Huntingdon and Sir Edward were left to raise their children with little female input. Without maternal assistance the widowers, especially Edward, were ill-equipped to cope with emotional teenagers, especially a young girl who thought being separated from Robin was worse than dying. Marian spent hours begging and pleading with her father to reconsider, but he was unyielding and in two weeks she was the newest abbey resident.

The monks were all very nice to her and she was fascinated by those clergymen who took vows of silence. After her arrival at Fountains Marian channeled her anger into mischief; she teased the silent monks trying her best to make them talk.

One of the brothers took the young girl under his wing; Friar Tuck was his name. He taught her the ways of natural healing and the bounty of herbs and flowers provided in the dense woodlands, if you knew where to look and how to use them.

Robin was surely in great pain and she still had to sew up the wound, best he slept through that, too. Marian allowed the memory of Friar Tuck to distract her for a more few minutes. The two became fast friends; their personalities well matched as both appreciated wit and sarcasm. Friar Tuck was a fount of knowledge and Marian an eager student. They spent the mornings walking the woodlands around the abbey searching for flora to use in various potions.

Tuck was shaped like a barrel but Marian thought he was quite agile for a man of his girth, always wearing a cloak of rough cloth to cover his round frame. The top of his head was smooth and bare as an egg, fringed all around with a ring of short dark, brown hair. The twinkle in his brown eyes matched his usual jolly demeanor. But for as kind and humble as the good friar could be, he could be equally fierce to anyone who harmed the poor, or a woman.

Marian did not see Friar Tuck again, though she thought of him from time to time when she made poultices or herbal remedies for her father's aches and pains. Some of the village women showed interest in learning about the uses of the local plants and Marian was happy to oblige. It was one of the things that kept her occupied after Robin left with King Richard.

- - --

As the tall trees cast lengthening shadows over the landscape, a sudden wind swept through the river basin impairing visibility as it stirred up dust and leaves; a woeful howl pierced the silent forest. Within the dissipating wind stood a great grey wolf pawing steadily at the debris blocking the cave opening. A distinctive stripe of pure white highlighted its muzzle.

Weaving his way through Marian's camouflaged entry, the wolf entered the cave and positioned his body against Robin, but between his body and the entrance. Poised and alert, he kept vigil golden eyes rarely blinking, ears attune to the sounds outside.

Beads of perspiration rolled down Robin's ashen face. He was restless, mumbling and moaning as if trying to wake from a frightening nightmare. His erratic movements aggravated the delicate binding over his injury. The once off white bandages were now stained with fresh blood. The wolf looked down at his charge; Robin clutched at its fur, but the creature remained steadfast.

Drawn by the scent of blood, the beast nuzzled Robin's shoulder loosening further the crude dressing and soothed the wound with his tongue. The injured man quieted almost immediately under the gentle care of this forest dweller. Completing his ministrations, the animal rested his head beside Robin's hip.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 12**_

Twilight was settling over the forest when Marian returned to the cave. It took longer than she anticipated tofind the needed roots. Digging beneath the snow patches into the cold ground left her hands chapped and raw; she cupped them warming the numbness as she exhaled. Cautiously making her way down the treacherous incline, Marian looked toward the cave; the concealing undergrowth was disturbed. Her heart rose to her throat; adrenaline made her instincts sharp.

Warily approaching the cave, she listened for voices as she drew her dagger from its sheath. The light from the fire's dying embers softly illuminated the stone walls; Marian listened intently from outside the entrance. After a time the silence convinced her the cave's occupant had no uninvited guests. Breathing a sigh of relief, Marian ducked into the shelter only to face a pair of captivating golden eyes.

Too startled to scream, Marian stared wide-eyed at the wolf lying beside Robin's unconscious body. In the seconds that followed, her sudden fear was replaced by an odd sense of calm as if hypnotized by the penetrating gaze of the mysterious visitor. Rapt by an indefinable sense of security, the lady sheathed her weapon and slowly moved to Robin's side.

Like a soldier being relieved at his sentry post, the huge wolf rose, walked over to the egress and stopped to look back at Marian. The outlaw failed to notice the beast's departure as the shocking site of Robin's exposed wound replaced her speculation about the wolf's presence. Although the bleeding stopped the laceration across his upper chest was deep and needed many stitches.

Working quickly, Marian pulverized the bits of Valerian root she gathered into a paste with a makeshift mortar and pestle then diluted it in some water from her flask; she heated the liquid with a small stone near the fire. Tuck told her the dried root was preferred, but she hoped this mixture would keep him sleep while she tended to his injuries. Taking the needle and thread she kept in her possibles bag, Marian sewed the gash closed as best she could then spent the better part of the night tending the fire and nursing her beloved.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13**_

John and Much were the first to arrive back at the Sherwood campsite; after making the delivery to Wyersdale, they hurried back. Something was wrong, and both men were anxious to return home. Certain the others were not far behind John kept busy preparing a fire and settled in to wait. Much walked off muttering inaudibly.

The sun was high overhead when Alan appeared. He was looking at the ground, shading his left eye with his hand.

"Alan." This was Little John's idea of a greeting. "Where are Will and Djaq?" He added, watching as Alan paced nervously from one side of camp to the other.

"Don't know, do I?" Alan snapped still not looking at his friend. "Just leave me alone," Alan mumbled under his breath as he purposely moved farther away from John. Alan was jumpy and not sure why. Anxious to change the subject he asked, "What are you doin' back 'ere? Thought you and Much were goin' to the Blue Pig…somethin' like 'at, anyway you were gonna visit a friend, right"

Despite the full beard, one could always tell when Little John was irked. "Changed my mind 'bout staying." Then he added, "Blue Boar."

"What?" Alan barked.

"Blue Boar, not pig." John was truly beginning to worry about his friend. "What is wrong?"

Alan kept his back to the big man and apparently had no interest in conversing. Perhaps a bit of good natured teasing would pique him and out of this funk, so he asked, "Is Gisborne running his dogs again?"

Enraged, Alan took his hand away from his eye and angrily pointed a finger at the outlawed man. "Don't ever say 'at! I 'ated 'at and you know it!"

John laughed loudly when he noticed the swollen, purplish bruise surrounding Alan's left eye. "Aye, Robin was right."

Embarrassed that Little John saw his injury, Alan was immediately defensive, "'bout what? How do you know I didn't walk into a branch or somethin'?"

"Walked into Will Scarlett's fist, more like." John was still smiling and tapped his staff on the ground.

"It was an accident! And I don't wanna talk about it." Alan pouted and turned back to throwing his gear around.

Not intimidated by Alan's surliness, John continued, "That is why you returned, nurse that eye." It was spoken as a fact, not a question.

"Nah, 'at's not it." Alan said softly, his moods changing mercurially. "I just needed to be 'ere, in Sherwood." Alan walked over to the secret larder beneath one of the forest's oldest oaks grabbing a wineskin while John plopped down near the fire.

"It's strange," he said, walking over to sit opposite John at the fireside. "I cannot…."

Suddenly Much appeared at the top of the hill and ran toward his friends flailing his arms about. Hurrying over to John he explained, "Something is wrong; something is wrong with Robin."

"Where 'ave you been?" Alan asked taking another swig of wine.

"I was…I was looking around." Out of breath and gasping for air, Much tried to continue. "I am…telling you…something has happened."

"And 'ow do you know 'at?" Alan asked passing the wineskin over to John before directing his gaze to Much.

"I just know." He paused briefly to look at the others, "We must go!"

"Where would we go?" John asked, returning the wineskin to Alan after taking one more drink.

Will and Djaq entered the camp, drawing the group's attention. The boyish carpenter looked over at his companion and smiled encouragingly; Djaq's mouth stretched into a thin line in acknowledgement, but not a true smile. Preoccupied, her senses were suddenly tingling as if her blood was replaced by crawling spiders moving inside her body.

Each outlaw returned to camp earlier than planned, except Robin and Marian. Much was the first to mention it. "We are all here except them. That means something."

" 'course it does, Much." Alan walked over to the anxious man, "It means they are not here!"

The tension was building as they each tried unsuccessfully to describe the sense of dread that permeated the air. Finally Djaq broke the silence.

"Something is wrong and we all know it." The Saracen stated solemnly, putting a voice to their apprehension; her dark eyes met those of her friends.

A gusting wind blew through the campsite, swirling leaves and filling the air with dust; the once bright sun was hidden behind dark clouds. As the wind whispered hauntingly in the stately boughs above, the outlaws instinctively moved closer together as if to battle an enemy.

The mournful howls of a wolf penetrated the eerie calm settling over the camp as the wind abated; Djaq pointed toward the sound. A lone grey wolf stood stoically on the ridge above the camp. After several seconds the group watched silently as the great beast vanished into the forest shadows.

"Well, what do ya make of 'at?" Alan asked, swigging the last of the wine.

"It is a sign." Djaq stated matter-of-factly.

"A sign of what?" Little John wanted to know.

"But we know where Robin went. We do not need a sign." Much was getting all worked up and he began talking faster than usual. "My master went to Wadlow with Lady Marian. Let's just go to the old Roman Road. I'm sure we can pick up their trail."

"Wait." Djaq ordered, and the gentlemen of the forest all turned to her. "Maybe they did not take the road."

"We are wasting time!" Much was getting more frenetic with each passing second, "…we must go!"

"Since Marian has come to live with us, we have spent time talking…" Djaq said.

"Yes and…." Much was anxious and had no thought to hide it.

"Quiet Much! Let 'er talk." Will said walking over to Much and resting his hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"She told me there was an old path below the Roman Road. There are remnants of an old Roman healing garden."

"Djaq, now that doesn't make sense," Alan said shaking his head. "Not to be funny, but why go that way when there is a perfectly good road?"

"Let me finish…many unique herbs grow wild there...from the old gardens. Marian talked about going there."

"Are you sure Djaq? That winter storm last week would not have left much for Marian to pick, you reckon?" Will asked gently.

"What are we waiting for? We know the way they went," Much pleaded. The panic-stricken man started kicking dirt on the fire to hasten their departure.

"I am sure, Will." Djaq really wasn't sure, but she did not want to show doubt to the others. "We need supplies…" She instructed; as her voice trailed off she grabbed a woven sack. "Get that dried venison, John, and bread."

Without hesitation John did as requested; Will, Alan, and Much each gathered blankets, a hank of rope and water flasks respectively.

John was silently mulling over the situation, and finally gave the orders. "We go separately. Will, Much and Djaq take the old path. Alan and I will take the road."

"Good…good." Much muttered walking back and forth, eager to be on the familiar route to Wadlow. "Wait! I want to go on the road."

"Much you go with John then," Djaq suggested. She turned to Alan, "Will you help us clear the trail so we can move faster?" Alan nodded in agreement. Will had no problem with the arrangements now that he and Alan cleared the air.

With his big hand Little John reached for the sack of gear, "I will carry," he said giving her a slight smile and a nod.

- - -

The embers of the fire grew dim and the damp, morning air invaded the cave. Marian shivered and snuggled closer to Robin. Only an hour earlier, she allowed herself to relax, assured her patient was resting comfortably. But as weariness overwhelmed her, Marian was painfully aware of her own injuries. The sliding fall down the embankment left her scratched and bruised; the tears she kept at bay for so long streamed silently down her cheeks, stinging the scrapes she was not even aware of until now. Relieved Robin was not awake to see her tears Marian wiped her face with a wet cloth. Lying beside Robin with her arm protectively across his body, she finally gave into exhaustion and slept.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter 14**_

Djaq stopped and motioned to Alan and he hacked at the tangled brush with his sword.

"Will, get up 'ere! I been in more brambles today than a scared hare!" Alan grumbled, shouting over his shoulder.

The carpenter grabbed his axe and chopped through the larger vines and roots. "Will…." Alan whispered picking at the nettles stuck to his vest. " 'ave you been watching 'er?"

"Of course!" Will said with a wink.

"Yes…well…I mean watch her look for the trail. She is not tracking…she is not looking at the ground at all. They were going to Wadlow, no way Robin go this way!"

Walking to catch up with the lads, Djaq looked at Alan, "This is the way," the Saracen replied sharply. Djaq dipped her head and looked up at Alan from the top of her eyes. "Let's go."

Djaq headed west and quickened her pace as though unconcerned if her friends followed her or not. Alan ran ahead, slashing away the thick underbrush. He called back over his shoulder, "you're sure? Not to be funny, but I don't wanna do all this hacking for nothing."

Stopping to glare at him, Djaq yelled back, "Yes. Tracking is not all done on the ground." Muttering under her breath she added shaking her head, "These Englishmen could not track a camel across smooth sand."

"Aw right, sorry," Alan nodded and waved.

Will ran to catch up with Djaq again, "Hi," he said slowing his sprint to walk beside her. Djaq looked at him and smiled genuinely, that was enough for Will.

Courting was a new experience for Will and he found it difficult to keep the conversation going. He struggled for a question and finally asked, "so…what did you think of that wolf, Djaq?"

"I have heard the wolves many times at night, but I had not seen one 'til now. We have wild dogs in the desert, but they do not have eyes that see into the soul."

Knitting his brow, Will asked, "is that why you think the wolf was a sign?"

Djaq nodded, "Do you not feel his energy?" She looked at him, her beautiful, dark eyes radiant.

Caught in the depth of her eyes, Will completely forgot not only her question; he could not even remember the subject!

Alan's timing was perfect as he charged up, "It's a bit clearer along this part so I came back to see what you two are up to."

Actually Djaq welcomed the interruption as well, but for a totally different reason. She needed to concentrate just now, her blood was humming again and she was uneasy about the trail they followed. The route to Wadlow was well known and most certainly did not cover this ground; the Roman Road was above them. Though a newcomer to Sherwood, even she knew the easiest route to the village. Yet her feet were being directed –any attempt to alter the course or slow her pace was overruled. There was no fear in what she felt; having been so long enslaved, surely she would know the touch of evil. What Djaq felt was not malevolent – only compelling.

She did not want to tell the guys, but she was essentially tracking blind, looking for tracks that were not there – no broken branches or bruised grasses. The woodsmen she called friends lived in the here and now; they were more likely to fear what they did not understand rather than embrace new possibilities. She knew that was true for Alan, but she was not yet sure about Will. Djaq was sure the wolf with the white nose was nearby, a step ahead, a breath away.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 15**_

The sun was well above the tree line when Robin began to stir. His hand moved to the arm draped across him and he rubbed it gently, struggling to break through from the fog of unconsciousness. Marian sighed in her sleep and squeezed Robin's chest. He winced in pain, bringing them both to consciousness.

The events of yesterday invaded Marian's mind in rapid succession. She looked apologetically at the man beside her, realizing she had put pressure on his wound. "I am sorry," she said as she yawned. Sitting up, she groaned painfully as she was suddenly aware of the stiffness in her shoulders, her back, just about everywhere. Until now Marian, was not concerned with her minor injuries, or what might lay ahead, Robin required her full attention.

"Mar…Marian…." He mumbled struggling to shake off the dregs of sleep.

"Yes Robin," she uttered softly unable to conceal the pain in her voice.

Although he was not yet fully awake, her tone distressed him and he reached for her. "Are you all right?" He whispered.

Marian took his hand and forced a smile. "I should be asking you that question. You gave me quite a scare."

"I did not mean too."

"What? You did not mean to save me?" Marian tried to add some levity to their situation, but her teasing was too much for Robin's groggy mind.

"No…I…no. What?"

She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand and Robin closed his eyes. "Never mind. Do you remember what happened?"

"It is like a dream. You were standing there…." Robin paused, trying to organize his thoughts. Marian brushed her thumb across his brow as he continued. "Then the boar…I pushed you…."

"Over the cliff, thank you very much!"

"Did I?" Instantly contrite, Robin focused on Marian's face.

"I am fine. It was as much my clumsiness as the push, and the soggy ground." Marian tried to minimize the whole incident to alleviate Robin's worry and started to check his bandages.

"Marian I do not think you can be clumsy," he smiled up at her, "and you cannot make me say otherwise."

"I am fine," she reiterated, emphasizing the last word. "A few scrapes…."

"A few scrapes…" his voice faltered as he reached up and turned her face to the dimming firelight.

Pulling her chin away, Marian shrugged off his concern... "It is you I am worried about…." Marian looked around the cave, "and getting out of here."

"Let me see," he insisted, reaching again for her chin. "Do not argue with a wounded man."

Exhaling resignedly, Marian allowed his inspection. At least he could not see the bruise on her hip or the scratches on her legs; thankfully all were hidden under layers of clothing. None of her injuries were serious, but they looked bad and she had not yet taken the time to clean up.

Robin began pulling leaves and broken twigs from her hair while he studied her face. She was as dirty as he had ever seen her. The mud she tried to wipe off her face left streaks on her forehead and left cheek, there was a bruise forming on her left temple, and her bottom lip was swollen. Robin reached up and carefully touched her lip.

"Ow!" Marian cried, jerking away from his touch. "I think I must have bitten it when I tumbled down the slope."

"Marian... I hate seeing you in pain."

"I am fine. Do not worry." Marian was easily as stubborn as the man she adored.

"I think I can sit up," Robin said trying to lift himself, but he fell back, clutching at his shoulder. His breathing quickened as a wave of nausea washed over him.

"Do not!" She scolded, "…you might reopen the wound."

"No…it is…not…so bad." He tried to minimize the agony he felt, but his acting was not nearly as good as his archery.

Shaking her head, Marian chided, "…one day you will listen to me!" She helped him get comfortable again and began to worry anew, his eyes were tightly closed and all the color drained from his face. She soothed his forehead with a damp cloth and softened her tone. "I will make some broth. Get some food in you." She got up, stoked the fire and began preparing the modest meal.

"I do not think broth is actually food; I know Much would agree me." Robin whined.

"Too bad for you Much is not here. Besides he has made a career out of agreeing with you." Marian glanced over her shoulder to give him the eye.

"Yes ma'am," he agreed, pulling the cloak up to his chin. Robin watched Marian as she worked. The circumstances were not exactly what he had in mind remembering his expectations before the journey began. He was looking forward to being alone with Marian, hoping it would bring them closer.

Adjusting to life in the forest, communal living, it was quite a lot for Marian to absorb. Since she came to Sherwood Robin had been patient, giving her time to adjust to her new life in the forest. He gave her space and let her get to know the others in her own time; he was certain his patience was paying off.

But he was tired of being patient; he was ready to move to the next phase of their relationship and he thought Marian was too from the innuendoes and double entendres she directed at him recently. Robin shifted uncomfortably, trying once more to sit up.

Exasperated by his stubbornness, Marian offered, "…at least let me help you." Hurrying over to him, she supported his back while Robin pushed against the dirt floor with his right hand until he rested against the closest wall.

Smiling up at her, he nodded and reached for her hand, locking their fingers together. With the change in position, the cloak covering him slipped from his shoulders, exposing his wounded chest.

"Just one thing…" He paused smiling cheekily, "…was it necessary to take off _all_ my clothes?"

Marian blushed and her eyes widened in surprise; she tried to pull her hand away, but Robin held firm, continuing to leer at her.

"They were soaking wet…I had to take them off," she said, setting her jaw defensively. Then an idea came to her and she skillfully regained the advantage. Tossing her head flirtatiously, she smiled at him. "I quite enjoyed it actually."

It was Robin's turn to blush; Marian could still surprise him. She was smart and beautiful, bold and clever; all of the qualities he admired most about her. Robin would never admit it, but he loved that she challenged him and was every bit his equal in their war of words. She let go of his hand and stood up, slowly smoothing her dress. Robin's eyes followed her hands as they moved from her shoulders to her waist and down. "Thank you for being so…thorough," he parried.

"My pleasure," she replied, winking at him before turning to stir the broth. Robin flushed anew and decided the loss of blood made him slow and he was not up to a verbal sparring match.

Unable to stop the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, Marian cleared her throat and turned back to him, "your clothes should be dry now. Shall I help you put them on?"

"Ah, not just yet," Robin stuttered, fidgeting nervously and raising his right knee under the cloak.

"Some broth then?" She asked innocently, but the gleam in her eye was just a touch too wicked.

Robin nodded, grateful she had not insisted on dressing him. Regrettably the poor man was in no condition to pursue his amorous inclinations, but just thinking about them seemed to distract him from the pain.

Marian sat beside her man, feeding him from the only crude bowl that was mostly intact. Robin relaxed, enjoying the warmth of the soothing liquid and his sweetheart's tender care.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter 16**_

The three outlaws, with Alan still blazing the trail followed closely by Djaq and Will. They trudged determinedly along until they reached the swiftly flowing River Trent.

"We can't cross 'ere!" Alan exclaimed as if stating the obvious.

Djaq answered with a quick shake of her head and pointed up river. "We follow the river."

The going was difficult; there was little solid footing between the water and the sharp incline to the right. The ground, still soggy from melting snow, was strewn with stones, tree rubbish, and rock shards with sharp edges, cleaving along the brittle layers of the limestone cliff.

Alan stopped suddenly and pointed upward. "The Roman Road - 'at's it up there! And we're down here slogging through this." Alan was incredulous, "I don't believe it!"

Djaq could only shrug, and then suddenly ducked as something fell from above and hit the ground beside her with a thud. Standing on the ridge above them were Much and John.

- - -

Robin had eaten only half the broth when he fell asleep, still leaning against the wall. Not wanting to move him more than necessary, Marian let him rest for a while. She kept busy searching around the outside area for anything that would burn.

Unexpectedly the sound of voices off in the distance penetrated the quiet afternoon. Marian recognized the shouting immediately and moved as fast as she could to intercept them.

"Hey! Over here!" Marian called and waved to the group.

Leaning forward, Robin shouted loudly hoping to be heard past the cave's entrance. "What is going on? Marian!"

His action quickly reminded him of his injuries and he relaxed back against the stone wall. Fortunately, by the time Marian stuck her head inside, Robin's pain subsided to a tolerable level.

"Our friends… they have found us!" Marian said excitedly.

Much was the first to reach the tiny haven in the cliff wall. "Master, you are hurt." One glance at Robin told him all he needed to know. His master sat propped up against the cave wall, a tangle of rough bandages covering his right shoulder. However to his great relief, Robin was alert and seemed to be out of immediate danger.

Djaq, Will and Alan walked up behind Much and John. They each took a turn talking to Robin. The small cave would only accommodate two of them at a time, so after greeting everyone, Marian stepped outside looking a little dazed at the sudden rescue.

The natural ceiling in the cave was too low to accommodate Little John's height, so he knelt just outside the entrance. "Robin," he said, nodding to his friend.

Robin returned his nod and greeted him, "John my friend, it is good to see you."

"You are lucky to be seen, from the looks of you." The giant woodsman's big grin disappeared into his full beard, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his good nature.

"Hah!" Laughed Much, looking quite pleased with himself for Little John's joke.

Pain shortened Robin's laugh, but he did feel a bit better just having his goods friends around him. Robin and Will shared a nod as Alan pushed his way passed him and Little John to squat beside his injured leader. Holding his palms out to the warmth of the small fire, Alan looked over his shoulder, "never met anyone with luck like yours."

"It was an accident!" Robin exclaimed defensively, his voice getting higher.

Alan leaned in closer and whispered, "…a girl, a fire, no clothes…and not a thing you can do about it."

Robin tried not to laugh but, in spite of the pain, it was impossible to suppress. Alan grinned devilishly and stood up, signaling to Djaq to sit by the fire.

The young Saracen sat cross-legged next to Robin, her expressive eyes full of compassion. She started to remove the old bandages, when Robin grasped her hand.

"I am all right, Djaq. Please look after Marian. She has taken good care of me and done nothing for herself," Robin's eyes pleaded his case as well as this voice.

"This dressing needs to be changed," she told him.

"Later Djaq please, Marian first." Robin was firm in his request and Djaq nodded and went to Marian.

Picking up the bag John tossed inside the cave earlier; Djaq went outside to check on Marian. Will and Alan started a fire as close to the cave as the terrain would allow. The carpenter had a good fire going and Alan was stacking some extra firewood nearby. Will looked up to see Djaq and Marian entered the fire circle and sit down. Catching Djaq's eye he was aware that she and Marian needed some privacy. He walked over and squeezed Djaq's shoulder and headed back to the cave to stand by Little John.

"I cannot believe you are all here," Marian beamed.

"We'd 'ave been 'ere sooner but we split up to cover more ground. And this one," Alan said pointing a finger at Djaq and smiling, "was convinced she had seen a sign."

Djaq shot her friend the evil eye and Alan was silenced.

"It is good you did not use the road," Marian assured them. "There is a wild boar…it may still be there. That is what happened." Much and John shared a look.

After doing what little she could for Marian, she and Djaq returned to the cave. The four men stood at the entrance. Djaq returned to Robin's side, removed the old bandages and began inspecting the wound. "Oh," she said in surprise looking over the deep jagged gash on Robin's upper chest and left shoulder.

"OW!" Robin complained, looking up at Djaq who held up her hands defensively.

"Are you a man or a child?" She asked him, resting her hands on her hips.

Robin pouted just long enough then flashed his patented cheeky smile. Djaq shook her head and continued inspecting the wound. In an effort to change the subject of conversation, Robin asked, "How did you find us? In fact, how did you even know to come looking?"

At first it seemed his questions fell on deaf ears as his weakened voice faded amidst the clamor of conversation around him.

"How…." Robin started to repeat his questions, but he was cut off by Djaq.

"It is hard to explain."

"It was the wolf," Will added.

"A wolf? Why there was a wolf here…I forgot to mention, what with everything else," Marian spoke up.

"What wolf? Robin asked.

"Gray with a white nose?" Djaq directed her question to Marian who nodded in response. The inquisitive Saracen was eager to find out what Marian had experienced.

"Impossible!" Alan exclaimed, "I don't mean to be funny or anything, but you both could not 'ave seen the same beast."

"I didn't see a wolf," Robin said, exasperation evident in his tone. He was being ignored and was feeling left out.

Uneasy with the undertones of Djaq and Marian's conversation, John wanted to change the topic. "It is too late to go back to camp. He's not up to it, anyway."

"Do not speak as if I am not here!" Robin complained hoping for attention.

"We cannot move him for at least another day, I think," Djaq told them. "The wound is deep and he has lost too much blood."

"Well, we won't all fit in 'ere," Alan observed, but no one was paying attention to him either.

With each passing second Robin was becoming more and more perturbed. They were still not including him in the conversation and their leader had just about enough.

"Do I have any say in the matter?" Robin demanded, his tone every bit the nobleman.

Finally he received a response, as six voices shouted in unison, "NO!"

Robin was too tired to argue the point and wisely decided it was an argument he could not win. So he lay down, turning his back on everyone and closed his eyes.

Within seconds the conversation picked up, although more quietly. Will grabbed Alan by the back of his tunic and pulled him out of the cave's entrance.

"We best fix a shelter," Will said. Alan nodded and left with his friend.

Much, who had been fairly quiet while finishing off the broth with a crust of bread and listening to the conversation, finally spoke up, "What can I do? I can do something surely?"

Little john whistled and signaled Much to join him. He wrapped his big arm around Much's shoulder and led him out of the cave. "Come with me." Once they were outside John whispered his plan in Much's ear.

"Ah!" Much said enthusiastically, "I thin you will find everyone will be very happy. Wait…what about…."

Impatient to leave, Little John was already headed up the rocky incline with Much running to catch up. That night, with the exception of Djaq, the outlaws feasted on roast succulent pork.

The next morning, Robin was eager to get back to Sherwood. Will and Djaq headed to Wadlow to make the delivery for Robin and Marian; they would meet the others at camp. John and Alan made a litter to carry Robin; Much helped Marian clear the temporary camp and prepare Robin for travel.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter 17**_

Back at the campsite in Sherwood, the outlaws settled into their old routines. After a modest dinner, everyone had taken to their pallets to sleep, everyone that is except Will and Djaq.

Djaq was sitting near the fire staring intently into the dancing flames, tossing little acorn hulls into the fire. Will leaned against a tree in the shadows just beyond the firelight. He watched her for a few minutes trying to decide what to say.

He noticed the way the others engaged her, speaking to her like a friend, a brother. Will wanted something different, something more. Life had been harsh for both of them, but he was still at home in England and his father and brother were nearby. Djag had no one, no way to get home – no one at home waiting for her. She could not even behave like the woman she truly was.

Managing with his attraction to the pretty Saracen was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. He had crushes when he was Luke's age, but never acted on them. And when his father lost his hand, Will's main interest was rebellion against the sheriff and Gisborne; he was suddenly focused like a falcon diving for a field mouse. Thoughts of romantic pursuits were forgotten – until Djaq arrived.

Leaving the safety of the shadows, Will entered the firelight and sat next to Djaq. "The fire is burning good considering the damp." It was all he could think of to say.

"Yes," she agreed, "you and Alan did a good job."

"You like Alan," Will said quietly.

"Yes, he is funny and talks about all kinds of things. Of course I don't believe half of it." Djaq grinned at him and Will's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh…."

"Will?" Djaq didn't hide her concern, "something wrong?"

"Nothing… Just trying to figure things out."

"What things?" The little Saracen was genuinely interested. "Tell me, Will."

Too afraid to tell her the truth, he just stared into the flames. His hesitation was worrying, so Djaq's thought was to say, "I know you are fond of me."

Sighing sadly Will hung his head muttering, "so he did tell you." His embarrassment was almost as painful as Alan's lie.

"Who he? Told what?" Djaq was completely lost.

Will looked over at her unsure like he didn't know what to say. If the ground suddenly opened up and swallowed him that would be perfect.

"You told me," Djaq answered matter-of-factly.

"Me?" Will was incredulous.

"Yes. You always ask if I am all right, sometimes you put your arm around me as if it is a natural action; and you smile at me - a lot." Djaq grinned as Will's mouth dropped open and his cheeks flushed. Suddenly he had some idea of how Djaq must have felt when he caught her shirtless on her first day with them.

"It is fine; I am used to it now." She smiled at him as if she knew his secret. "This is how I know you are fond of me; your own actions." Pausing, Djaq's tone grew more serious, "It was difficult for me at first – the closeness. Long ago I abandoned that part of my life…to survive. I forced all feelings aside; I rely on my intuition."

"And what does your intuition tell you about me?" He spoke quietly, even for Will, not really sure he wanted to know the answer.

Djaq squeezed his hand, "It tells me you are sincere."

"I am…I really am." Will nodded and moved closer feeling suddenly embolden. He rested his hand on her knee and patted ever so slightly while kissing her gently on the cheek. It wasn't really planned, he just wanted to kiss her and that thought was the only one in his mind.

Wide-eyed, Djaq gasped and jumped up. Will popped up right behind her looking dazed and very confused. Djaq had no idea what to say, so she just laughed nervously.

"What?" Will asked, truly perplexed. Poor lad, as if first love wasn't hard enough, he had other unusual circumstances. His mother Jane was no longer around to give him advice on being in love, much less being in love with a girl who has lived most of her life as a boy! In fact, he thought, she has probably pretended to be a boy longer than she was ever a girl…wait…she has always been a girl, stupid! Will tried to think of something to say to relieve the tension.

Djaq blurted out, "Nature calls," a little louder than was actually necessary. "Ah…masalama," she nodded, actually it was closer to a bow, and she dashed off.

Will was bewildered as if his brain was bouncing around inside his empty skull. His thoughts were scrambled: she allowed my arm around her; she said it was all right. Why is touching her knee so different? Well kissing her on the cheek might have spooked her. Will shook his head, if he was an idiot; he would like to know why.

Plopping down to sit once more, Will stared into the fire, breaking off pieces of a twig he picked up and tossing them into the flames, hoping for an epiphany.

Will was concerned that a simple carpenter had nothing to offer Djaq for the future. He had not even been to London, much less two thousand miles from England. Djaq has had such an interesting yet terribly sad life. Her father was a physician so her beginnings must have been comfortable, she was educated, and then the crusaders invaded her homeland and her life was completely changed. It amazed Will that Djaq could even look at an Englishman without burning hatred, much less live among them and call them friends.

If the king returns and Robin regains his lands and title, Will was sure the earl would take care of them all, but right now that was a dream and very far from current reality. The lives the outlaws led were dangerous, so much could happen to any of them. Hopefully the group could survive until the king returned, but there was no guarantee; Will wanted Djaq to know how he felt should the worst come to pass. He wanted her to know that someone in this world loves her, cares for her. He needed to tell her that, and he thought she needed to hear it.

Having an overwhelming desire to protect her, Will knew no one would hate that sentiment more than Djaq. Will sighed in frustration, suddenly aware of how difficult dealing with such intense emotions could be. He thought of Robin and Marian; they have known each other most of their lives; they obviously loved each other, but they could not quit arguing long enough to really get together.

Djaq ducked into the shadows as quickly as she could; she did not want to be seen by anyone. Something was wrong with her; her heart was racing and her mouth was dry. She didn't feel feverish; but she was really warm as if she was back in the east watching the sunset.

An owl hooted and flapped his wings as he took flight from his lofty perch into the darkness. The owl was one of Will's best bird calls, Djaq thought. And his eyes are so blue, so expressive. He did not hide what he felt. It was as plain as the pages of a text. I do not know what this feeling is, but I think I like it she thought, smiling widely.


	18. Chapter 18

2

_**Chapter 18**_

Appearing to hang suspended above the campsite, a dense fog drifted at varying heights as the moon rose higher in the sky. The murky haze reached out with long, billowing wisps at the whim of the fickle breeze.

Embraced in the arms of sleep, the outlaws slumbered contentedly, relaxed now that their leader was safe within their home camp and recovering from his injuries. Unlike his companions, Robin stirred in his sleep, caught in the labyrinth between dreams and reality.

Unconsciously, Robin clutched for the presence that pressed against his side. Coming to full awareness, he found nothing of substance rested there; even Marian was curled up in her blanket and separated by a short distance. Whatever had been beside him seemed so…real? Robin stared at his palm still sensing the warmth of a presence. He shrugged off the strange feeling as the remnants of a vivid dream.

Shifting slightly to one side, the outlaw leader drew his blanket around him, grimacing as the still sensitive wound pulled with the movement. Carefully, he settled behind Marian spooning against her body and resting his right arm on her hip. Without waking, Marian sighed contentedly, and hugged his hand to her chest.

Robin smiled lovingly at her then was instantly alerted to a faint sound like the padding of paws traveling through the mist settling across the campsite. He reared up on his elbow, his eyes searching for any indication of an intruder.

But again, there was nothing, just the midnight vapors invading the forest. The outlaw summoned that intuitive sense, the one that makes some leaders great, and peered through the meandering fog. For just an instant, the nearly imperceptible shape of a familiar physique, characteristic of incredible swiftness and formidable strength, sat stoically at the top of the rise above the camp.

To many, the site of this animal symbolized the underworld, striking terror and panic in the hearts of nobleman and peasant, Christian clergy and pagan priests. Many thought the wolf a vicious beast, whose musical, mournful howl was unnerving, the portent of impending doom.

But to those who lived in the arms of the greenwood, the wolf symbolized life's cycle, the turning of the wheel. The balance and strength in nature was promised to all inhabitants who depended on its replenishment for their continued existence. In the golden, almond-shaped eyes was wisdom far beyond what most of mankind acknowledge…or even possess.

For an eternal moment, time stilled their heartbeat. A shared understanding bridged the physical distance of the two forest dwellers, both living dual lives: Predator and prey; hunter and hunted; outlaw and wolfshead. Fate bound them together in the spirit of Sherwood.

Fin

_**Author Note:**_

In the early Middle Ages, an outlaw was also called 'wolfshead.' Outlaws were outside the law and its protection; they could be hunted by anyone. Wolves, menaces to livestock, could also be hunted by anyone. And so when an authority figure, like the sheriff, wanted to get everyone to hunt down an outlaw he'd cry "Wolf's-head!"


End file.
